


Bury Me Above Ground, so I Don't Have To Dig

by Innocentfighter



Series: Jason Todd Birthday Week [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Anxiety, Blood and Injury, Buried Alive, Canon-Typical Violence, Claustrophobia, Damian Wayne is Robin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Memories, Mild Blood, Mild Language, Minor Injuries, Non-Linear Narrative, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tim Drake is Red Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 23:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15651501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innocentfighter/pseuds/Innocentfighter
Summary: A criminal in Gotham is targeting people's worse fears, unfortunately, he has his eyes set on Red Hood. Jason has to relive one of the worst moments of his life, at least his family helps keep him sane this time. Dick is just having a bad night.





	Bury Me Above Ground, so I Don't Have To Dig

**Author's Note:**

> Oh I really thought that I wasn't going to get this done. Originally this was going to be for batfam week, but I never actually did it because I got distracted. So this had to go through a major overhaul in a few days, so some elements I was going to explore didn't because I wanted to focus on Jason mostly and his struggle. As always, I'm still not overly familiar with writing the characters, so all mistakes are mine!  
> The parts of the story with the bolded names are flashbacks!  
> Enjoy!

Jason woke up with his head throbbing and a distinct metallic taste in his mouth that let him know that he had been drugged. He swirled spit in his mouth before swallowing, it didn’t do much to remove the taste, but at least his throat wasn’t screaming because it was so dry. The next thing he realized was that his eyes were open, but he couldn’t see anything. Panic gripped his heart before he forced himself to calm down.

It felt like he hadn’t been stripped of his armor, his weapons were gone, but some of his secret pockets still felt full. He struggled to free his arm from where it had been pinned underneath him, it bumped into a wall. _That’s not comforting._

Slowly Jason lifted his other arm and felt the same thing. He clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath and then flexed his foot down, he heard his boot thump against something rather than felt it. Jason swallowed and raised both arms only a few more inches before his fingers brushed against the ceiling.

_Oh god. Not again._

Jason closed his eyes again, his body trembled. He forced himself to keep his breathing even, panicking would only make this worse.

_I’m going to die_.

The initial reason for moving returned to the front of his mind. He needed to know if he could see, judging by his current situation, there was probably no light, but it couldn’t hurt to check. Slowly he dropped one hand down and bent a leg which bumped against the ceiling. Jason winced and focused on getting the glowstick out from his pocket.

_Old habits never die._ He thought grimly.

The green light was somewhat of a comfort, now that he knew he could see it eased some of his stress but made other things worse. Like how he could now see the solid wood above him. His fingers ached with ghost pains of digging his way out. Jason dropped the glowstick up by his head and ran his hands along the seams. They were sealed, and he experimentally pushed against the lid. It didn’t budge, and more out of frustration than anything he slammed one palm against it, only to hear the thud and dirt trickle through some of the larger gaps between the planks.

Okay. That was something. The good news was that this was a shitty pine box compared to the velvet and mahogany monstrosity that he once dug his way out of. Bad news, he was buried in a coffin, and he was 98 percent sure that he hadn’t died again.

What was the last thing he remembered? Jason frowned, he was working a case with Nightwing, something about a person kidnapping people and then held them in their worst fears until the ransom was paid or killing them when it wasn’t. _Well, it seems like I’m the next victim. At least no one will have to spring for a new grave._

That wasn’t as funny as he thought it would be. The panic surged back to the front of his mind. He was buried again, with no way out. Jason fought it away by trying to think about his situation logically. No one knew that he was here. However, Nightwing would know that he was missing, he probably figured that out by now. With any luck, he called in Oracle and Red Robin was done with his Titan business. Truthfully, Jason didn’t want Robin anywhere near this guy.

He shifted, and his head bumped against a side of the coffi- _not_ a coffin, it’s a box. His air came rapidly as his hands started to ache, the taste of dirt filled his mouth and his tongue turned gummy. Jason closed his eyes and pressed a shaking hand to his face. The pressure was able to clear some of the panic away, he knew it wouldn’t be long before it overwhelmed him. If he didn’t work out how to rescue himself from now, before the inevitable panic attack, he was going to die.

_Jesus,_ he was going to die.

He thumped a hand against the lid of the coff- box once more and tried to ignore the burning in his eyes.

* * *

Dick had a good night. Jason turned out to help with the case, and it didn’t end up in a family-wide brawl, Damian was civil with the former Robin, and they managed to get a lead on the current criminal of the week. The rumors said he was a remnant of pre-fear toxin Scarecrow’s gang, which meant he liked causing fear the old-fashioned way. It was good for them because that meant he couldn’t be very active because he had to study his victims, but that also meant more people would get caught up in this before they noticed the trend.

Or that’s how it would have been in the past, Jason managed to hear rumors of it and let the Bats know, so far there had been five cases that were connected to this guy, and only one had resulted in the person’s death.

Dick whistled as he finished uploading his report to the Batcomputer. He moved to shut it off for the night before he changed his mind and opened, as Tim had called it, Batchat (only because the format was very similar to the Snapchat map). Since so many of the family was out of Gotham, he figured it couldn’t hurt.

The first Batmoji (again, Tim’s idea) he saw was Steph, who was in Metropolis for the weekend. Damian’s, Alfred’s, and his own were all clustered together at the manor. Cass’ was in Taiwan along with Duke’s (a strange team up, but they were the best two for the job). Barbara’s was located on the far side of Gotham, with Commissioner Gordon’s. As expected, Tim was staying the night in Jump City with the Titans. Dick chuckled to himself as he saw Bruce’s was in Coast City with Clark, Flash, and Green Lantern (he had to keep track of the Founders, Bruce had grumbled when asked about that).

Reassured that everyone was (mostly) safe, Dick turned away from the computer, only to realize that he hadn’t noticed Jason’s location. He frowned and spun around, it was likely that he just glossed over it while he was looking for the further members of the family. After several seconds of looking over the map and refreshing it, Dick had to admit to himself that Jason’s Batmoji was gone.

Jason _could_ have turned it off, it wouldn’t be the first time, but it would be odd. They hadn’t fought while they worked together, and there had been nothing to cause Jason to go AWOL. Dick tapped his fingers on the keyboard, the app _could_ be glitching and Jason was completely safe in one of his safehouses or with Roy.

Neither of those two options sat right with him. Jason usually told at least one of them when he was running off with the Outlaws for any length of time, and they were working a case. No, Dick bit his lip, something was wrong.

"Does the city still stand, Master Richard?” Alfred said dryly from behind him.

“Much to everyone’s disbelief, I haven’t managed to burn it down yet,” Dick replied automatically.

Alfred set a coffee cup down next to him, “I do believe that would be more of Master Jason’s area.”

Dick frowned again, “Jason hasn’t contacted you has he?”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, “not since this afternoon.”

“Wait, why did he call you this afternoon?” Dick turned towards the butler, trying to not be offended that his little brother didn’t call him in the afternoons.

“He wanted tips on how to make scones,” Alfred answered.

_That_ was something to be examined another day. Dick turned back to the computer, where the program was restarted, “he hasn’t contacted anyone?”

“He was on patrol with you less than two hours ago,” Alfred reminded him gently, “is there something the matter?”

“I don’t have any proof,” Dick responded which was Bat-speak for _yes, but I don’t know what._

The app loaded, it showed that Bruce was now heading back from Coast City and that Duke and Cass were further into the city they were in, there was still no sign of Jason. Dick felt unease curl up his spine. Alfred hovered behind him, and he was glad he wasn’t alone, he could focus if there was another person waiting for news. He tilted his head and went to the files, the locations were marked down every hour and then kept for twenty-four hours. It would give him a time from where Jason’s Batmoji went offline and where.

They finished their patrol around one a.m. and Jason’s tracker was still on then, Dick watched it blip further downtown an hour later and then at three a.m. it was offline. So, it had only been an hour. There could still be clues.

“Heading out so late, Master Richard?” Alfred asked.

Dick knew he didn’t approve, but he wasn’t sure if Jason was okay, and the longer he waited the worse situation could become, “I just want to check on him.”

He hoped that it was Jason just being difficult about being tracked. Bruce’s paranoia had never really agreed with any of them, but all of them (sans Jason) had more or less accepted it as part of their lives. Then again, Dick didn’t like that there were no obvious triggers for this behavior.

His mask was reapplied with deft fingers before he switched on his comm, with any luck Tim was still up doing whatever it was he did on that laptop of his.

“Nightwing to Red Robin.”

“Red Robin here,” Tim answered alert, “what’s up?”

Dick startled his motorcycle, “how quickly can you get to Gotham?”

"Maybe an hour, less if I zeta,” Tim replied.

“Zeta here.”

"What’s happened?” There was the sound of papers shifting in the background.

“Jason’s tracker is offline,” Dick replied, “and I think something’s wrong.”

“It’s not unusual for Jason to turn off his tracker, er, should we be using codenames?”

“Probably,” Dick winced, he needed to focus, “and I agree, but tonight went well, there should be no reason for it.”

Tim hummed, “I’m on my way, I’ll meet up with you.”

“Don’t tell B until we’re sure that this is something we need to worry about.”

The comm was quiet, but he was sure that Tim wouldn’t tell Bruce, at least not yet. Besides he needed to focus on driving and not crashing.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Tim beat him to the last known location of Jason.

“There’s nothing here,” Tim mumbled.

“Well, his tracker was still active here, so maybe-”

Tim was shaking his head, “I mean there’s _nothing_ here, no signs of tracks or lingering heat signatures. If Jason was here, there would be something that showed he was.”

"It was scrubbed?” Dick wrinkled his nose.

"Seems so,” Tim’s eyes narrowed, “but there’s one thing they forgot.”

“What’s that?” Dick asked Tim was moving towards the edge of the building.

“They missed a shell,” Tim raised the tiny piece of metal, “and there’s nothing anyone can do about a grappling hook hole in a short amount of time.”

Dick crouched next to his brother, “any guesses?”

Tim tilted his head and observed the rooftop, “they did something to give themselves away, there was a scuffle, but Hood tried to escape by jumping from the building and using the grappling hook as a way to slow his descent.”

Dick nodded and looked over the side of the building. The alleyway was less pristine, trash cans were knocked on their sides, and one of their lids was in the middle of the sidewalk.

“They must’ve fought in the alleyway,” Dick muttered.

Tim furrowed his brow, “maybe Hood had a really bad landing?”

"He’s just as good as Batman with moving through this city,” Dick shook his head.

“It was just a thought,” Tim shrugged, “like maybe this damaged his tracker.”

“Did Hood clean up the blood and injured?” Dick raised an eyebrow.

Tim’s mask widened like he hadn’t thought of that.

“Let’s see if we can find something in the alley.”

They climbed down the fire escape, Dick leaped down the last several feet, anxious to find anything. On the ground, he can see several more bullet casings, and cracks in the brick where a body hit the wall hard. There was still no definitive proof that Jason was involved other than this being his last known location.  Dick pushed a trashcan with his foot, there was a puddle of blood under it.

“There’s blood,” he called back to Tim.

“Uh, Nightwing,” Tim’s voice was strained.

Dick turned, careful to not stick his foot into the puddle. His heart dropped to his stomach, Tim was holding a cracked Red Hood mask.

“Shit,” Dick growled.

Tim nodded, “now do we call Batman?”

“Now we call Batman.”

“Where’s this blood?” Tim moved towards him.

Dick pointed to the puddle while he pulled out his phone. Bruce didn’t usually take the comm that was linked the ones in Gotham in fear that someone would hack into the frequency. Which has evidentially been the right choice if Roy and Wally were to be believed.

“Nightwing? Has something happened?” Bruce growled as soon as he answered the phone.

Dick swallowed, he always hated that tone, “Red Hood is missing.”

“What?”

“Red Robin and I think he’s been taken by someone,” Dick replied, “we’ve found signs of a stru- what is that?”

Tim turned around and followed his line of sight and frowned.

 “Nightwing, report.”

He edged closer to the object, it was a shovel. There was no rust, but there was dirt staining the head. A piece of paper was tied to the handle. Tim carefully untied it and then unfolded it. Dick watched as his face went white.

“Nightwing-”

Tim swallowed, “they buried Red Hood alive, they say that we have to pay 500,000 dollars before they’ll give us the location, and we only have 24 hours, starting from 3:13 am.”

“B, you need to get back here now.”

* * *

Jason ran out of distracting thoughts twenty minutes ago. Each twitch or shift of his body reminds him that he’s in a box that’s barely big enough to hold him. He thinks that he’s already had more air than he should, but it wasn’t something he would take for granted. There’s no give in the lid, he’s pressed against it with all the strength he had, and it didn’t budge.

His nails are blunt, it would take forever, and his fingers would be ripped to shreds. Jason bit his bottom lip. He could wait for Dick to find him, but there was always the chance that they wouldn’t find him before he ran out of air.

* * *

>    **B** **ruce**

* * *

Jason ran to hid underneath one of the beds the second he got back to the manor. Alfred called after him but was too slow to catch him. He liked the fact that the beds were tall enough that could fit underneath them. There was a blanket from the last time he had hidden, and he pulled it to bundle underneath his head.

His face throbbed from where he was sure an impressive bruise was forming. He should’ve walked away, he tried to, but when the kid started insulting his mom and where he came Jason turned around right into his fist. Which started a brawl that he shouldn’t have finished. Bruce was going to be angry.

Jason fell asleep, ignoring the tears on his face.

A soft thud woke up sometime later. He opened one of his eyes to see Bruce pressed against the floor peering under the bed. His breathing seemed a little heavy.

“Jason, there you are!”

Jason blinked, “yeah?”

“Alfred says he hasn’t seen you since he brought you home,” Bruce explained, “and then I couldn’t find you.”

“Why?” Jason mumbled.

Bruce blinked, “because he said you got into a fight.”

"So, what?” Jason grumbles, “I used to get into them all the time.”

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Bruce replied, “come out so I can see?”

Jason shook his head. He doesn’t think that he’s ready to leave the safety of the bed. Bruce’s concern will only last so long.

Bruce shifted a little closer to the bed, “then come here?”

That he thinks he could do, so he wiggled over. The blanket moved with him. Once he was near enough, Bruce pushed himself further under the bed. He wouldn’t fit, but his arm wrapped around Jason in an awkward but comforting hug. This was what he wasn’t ready to give up.

* * *

Blood dripped on this face. He stopped consciously noticing the pain several minutes ago. There were only a few small gouges in the lid. It’s significantly more progress than he made in the first few minutes of digging with the coffin Bruce had given him. Not enough in his standards, but his standards also include just being buried no box or burned so he can’t come back.

Jason stops and stretched his hands against the lid. His fingers are cramping. He pushed and heard a crack.

* * *

> **Dick**

* * *

Nightwing was working the case with them. There’s been a series of similar crimes in both cities. It’s been awkward. Jason has alternated between avoiding Bruce and avoiding Dick, depending on who lost their previous argument. He’s almost entirely sure they’re about him or something Bruce has done, and Jason’s been alive long enough to know when you’re being argued about it’s best to stay scarce.

Tonight, however, he can’t avoid either because they’ve tracked down their suspect. Jason’s kept himself quiet because the argument they had this afternoon was the worse yet. Batman’s teamed him up with Nightwing, which is odd because they don’t know how each other moves. He tried to ignore the voice in his head that made him think that Batman is going this alone because he thinks the Robins are dead weight, or he wanted to work with Dick but couldn’t leave Jason on his own. That’s not how Batman worked in the field, the emotion was all on the backburners.

Jason inched forward on the thin plank of wood. It cracked and created ominously, he stepped as lightly as he could but despite being five or so years younger, he was already building more muscle mass than Dick. Also, Nightwing was disturbingly sure of foot and always knew how to distribute his weight to keep himself from causes things to give out at inopportune moments. The board gave way and Jason leaped the rest of the way to the landing. Nightwing glanced back at him, his lips were pressed together but he was crouched to spring. He wondered if the older hero would have been able to catch him.

Jason scowled, more for his own defense and pushed past Nightwing. He heard a noise of disapproval, but he ignored it in favor of double-checking that no one had come to check on the noise. Batman wasn’t even yelling at them through the comms which meant that he hadn’t heard either. It was a relief, the last thing he needed was a minor screw-up landing him out of the manor and fired from being Robin.

That’s why he bit his tongue when the walkway collapsed. Jason heard the metal screech and he lunged towards the side he thought was secure. Unfortunately, he had been wrong but he was hanging by one of the support bars over a drop that at the very least shatter several of his bones. There was yelling from further in the warehouse. He kept himself as still as he could, his shoulder ached with the effort, but any movement might bring the entire panel down.

There was a soft hiss and a body slammed into them. They were air born before they landed with a soft thud on the lower walkway. Jason peeled himself away from his savior and blinked when he saw that it was Nightwing. Nightwing didn’t let him get very, his hands gripped Jason’s arms tightly.

“Are you alright, Little Wing?”

_Little wing? What the hell?_ Sure, they were on better terms, but they weren’t the brothers that they’ve had to play for the tabloids and newspapers.

“I’m fine,” Jason rolled his shoulder, “it’s pulled, but not dislocated.”

Nightwing shifts his grip and yanks Jason into a hug. They _don’t_ hug in uniform, but the yelling has quieted and there’s no one else here.

“Report?” Batman growls over the comm.

Jason looks up in surprise. This is how Nightwing is going to get rid of him.

"Everything is fine, one of the walkway panels rusted through when weight was put on it,” Nightwing replied.

“I have the suspect in sight, office on the east side of the factory,” and the comm went silent again.

Nightwing shrugged at the brisk tone, “the sooner we get this done, the sooner I leave.”

Jason doesn’t have the courage to tell him that he wouldn’t mind it if Dick came around the manor more, just to do brotherly things.

* * *

“Shit.”  Dick swiped his hand over the table.

Papers scattered on the floor. It shattered the silence of the room but not of its occupants. Tim looked up but continued searching through hours of surveillance around Gotham. Alfred moved to put a comforting hand on Dick’s shoulder, he didn’t brush it off, but he thought about it. There was no sign of Jason, no one wanted to say it he knew, but he was sure everyone was thinking about the time that Jason died.

“We’ll find him, Master Richard,” Alfred squeezed his shoulder gently and then dropped his hand.

“Where?” He kept himself from snapping, “it’s like he vanished.”

Tim shook his head, “no sign of magic.”

Dick blinked and then shrugged, he hadn’t thought of that possibility, but then again that’s why he’s always been the one helping with takedown and evidence gathering. Bruce stared at the computer screen like it would give him the answers that have eluded them for five hours. They only had 19 left, there was no escaping this and they couldn’t wire the money without risking their identities. Dick would have said screw it, but there were too many of them to weather the storm now. Maybe when it was just Bruce, Alfred, Jason, and himself, but their family was so large.

It was a strange thing to mourn. He needed to focus, but the letters on the paper wouldn’t change anything.

“Has his phone come online yet?” Bruce asked Tim.

“No,” Tim replied, “but as soon as it is, I’ll you know.”

Bruce grunted.

“Ah,” Tim breathed, “the soil samples have come back. It matches several areas around the edges of Gotham, but it's not sandy and not from the alleyway.”

Dick ran a hand through his hair, “he planted the shovel after he buried Jason? This timeline doesn’t match up.”

Tim tapped the side of the chair, “it could work if Jason was taken directly after he left you.”

“But then he would have taken Red Hood and not Jason Todd, which means that he knows Jay’s secret identity.”

“Not necessarily,” Bruce said, “he could have heard from Joker. He likes… bragging.”

Dick scowled at the remaindered of the clown. If it wasn’t for him, this wouldn’t be a problem.

"Okay so he takes Jason at let’s say a quarter after one,” Tim said after a minute. “We don’t find the shovel until 3:30, which gives him a two-hour window to get to where he took Jason, er… bury him, and then get back to plant the shovel.”

Dick nodded, “so the only places he could feasibly reach are the parks.”

Bruce spun to face him, “and there are only two that would be deserted enough to act undisturbed.”

“But the problem is, those two parks are the largest in Gotham,” Tim sighed, “it’ll take hours to find him, even after we determine the most likely places that could be dug up but not found in the allotted time.”

"Well,” Dick stood, “let’s not waste time.”

* * *

>   **Tim**

* * *

Replacement was good, Jason grudgingly admitted. He was smart and well-trained, but he lacked experience and a natural aptitude for the fighting part of vigilantism. Maybe it was the lack of common sense that he didn’t understand, Jason sighed as the kid jumped into the middle of the thugs that had been turning Jason into their own personal kicking bag.

He didn’t need the help. Jason rolled onto his feet, he cursed as the world spun. His helmet had been shattered when Big Goon #1 had smashed his skull into the front of the semi-truck. It was a tiny concussion, he was more worried about the fact he couldn’t move his arm without wanting to cry. Replacement shouted as one of the thugs got a lucky punch in. Jason already knew the kid was going down, he’d been overbalanced from dodging a crowbar (which, fuck that guy in particular).

The first shot went purposely wide. Several of the goons stopped advancing on Replacement and turned to face him.

“I’m still here, fuckheads.”

“Boy Blunder here is worth more in the Underworld.”

Jason rolled his eyes, “sure, but I can kick your asses better than him, and I’m tellin’ you to fuck off.”

It was enough of a distraction that Replacement regained his balance, and launched himself at Big Goon #2. The dude barely budged, it was hilariously pathetic, or it would be once the guy wasn’t actively trying to wring Robin’s neck. Jason looked at one of the smarter idiots of the group, who was slowly inching his way down the dock and sighed. He missed the day when people ran in fear at the sight of the Boy Wonder. Then again Dick could weasel his way out of any fight and Jason just hit hard enough to leave an impression. Replacement hadn’t found his niche as Robin.

Replacement dropped to the ground and tried to leg swipe his target. Jason raised an eye, it was impressive, but the goon had already adjusted his stance so it would be harder.

“Okay, we’re done here.”

Several of the goons looked at him. Jason raised his gun and fired. Big Goon #2 dropped to the ground, alive, unfortunately. Bats had just stopped actively trying to arrest him, he wanted to save that fun for a rainy day. Replacement leaped to his feet and looked at him in shock. Jason sighed and fired off several more rounds. He didn’t kill any of them if they bled out that was on them in Jason’s opinion.

Once the guys learned that Red Hood was shooting them and standing after having his head smashed into the truck and kicked repeatedly, they decided that it was time to book it. Jason shot after them, not caring if the bullets hit or missed them. He just wanted to sit down. The moment it was just Replacement left, he dropped to his haunches and ignored the spinning.

Replacement stood away from him, “are you okay?”

“Alive,” Jason grunted.

“Do you need a doctor?”

Jason eyed Replacement and saw that he was being genuine. _What the hell?_ “Probably.”

"You aren’t going to shoot me again?” Replacement stepped forward.

“Nah,” Jason said after a minute.

* * *

The good news was that more dirt was falling into the coffin. The bad news was there was more dirt falling into the coffin. Jason had worked a hole into the lid, but his fingers were practically shredded. The coffin might be shitter quality, but he had learned quickly that it was its own kind of hell to dig out of. At least during the first time, his hands had broken before they became unusable.

Jason laughed, but it sounded hysterical and almost like a sob. How in the world had his life come to the point where he was comparing the pros and cons of digging out of different types of coffins? _Fuck,_ he just wanted to get out of here and never do this again. He almost wished he had his phone to call anyone, hell he’d take Bruce at this point, but like his weapons that was gone too. There was still some hope that someone had noticed him being gone, but it wasn’t like they would know he was a) kidnapped b) buried alive. That be one hell of a deductive leap even for Tim.

_Shit._ He shook his head, he was starting to panic again. How he hadn’t yet was a mystery, but now that he wasn’t actively digging he could feel it start to creep on him. The shallow breathing and loss of focus. Jason curled his fingers into the jagged wood of the lid. The pain cleared his thoughts somewhat but reminded him that his hands wouldn’t last much longer. With luck, he would get a hole larger enough for him to start to crawl through, but then he’d have to _dig_ his way out. He didn’t have enough faith in the universe that this was a shallow grave.

_Well,_ he thought in a strangely chipper voice, _time to get back to work._ The weird mining song from Snow White popped into his head and he groaned. _Fucking hell, it got worse._

* * *

 

> **Damian**

* * *

“So, this is where you run off to so that you can lick your wounds.”

Jason didn’t jump, he was pretty sure that someone had been following him anyway, the entire Batclan saw him barely make it out of the building before it exploded. They’d either check on him in person or send someone to do it. It was just a little surprising to see that they had sent Demon Spawn instead of someone who made sense like Dick or Cass or even Steph.

“You figured me out,” Jason grumbled.

Damian leaned over him and scowled. Jason raised an eyebrow at him, but the look was ruined when he started coughing. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but it left Jason winded.

“If you’re going to kill me, do it now.”

“That wouldn’t be a worthy end for you.” Damian shook his head.

_Ooh, that’s almost a compliment._ Jason snickered which earned him a glare from the Brat Wonder. He pushed himself into a sitting position.

“As you can see, I’m not dead or actively dying,” Jason snarked, “so you can go tell the Bats that.”

“You looked like you were about to pass out on the roof.”

Jason glared, “hey, you haul your ass out of a burning building after being in their longer than is safe, you’ll want to take a breather too.”

Damian crossed his arms, “I am helping you to your safehouse.”

“Oh for fuck sake.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. It was a poor mockery of Alfred’s and it lacked all of the force, but Jason found himself not wanting to fight with the kid. Not with the headache building behind his eyes and he had oxygen in his safe house that would help. Jason stood and Damian kept his eyes on him.

“Listen, you can’t _help_ me get to the safe house, I’m like two times your weight,” Jason said, “but you can escort if it’ll get you out of the tizzy you’re in.”

Damian scowled, “I am not in a tizzy. As I said, it’s unworthy of you to die on a rooftop. Not to mention dangerous for the rest of us if your identity gets discovered.”

Jason threw his hands in the air, “whatever, let’s just get back to the safehouse.”

“I’m staying the night.”

“Of course you are,” Jason sighed and launched a grappling hook towards the nearest building.

* * *

Jason breached the surface. He gasped in a large breath of air and stopped pulling himself out. Now that he could breathe easier, it was like all the fight in his body went out. _That majorly fucking sucked._

“I heard something over here!”

_Shit._ Jason started to push himself out of the hole further. The last thing he needed was some punk or civilian to see the fearsome Red Hood stave off another panic attack halfway buried in the dirt.

The person who spoke, he assumed, breached the tree line, and he was greeted with Robin. In broad daylight, which broke at least seven of the Bat rules.

“Hood!” He yelled, and then turned his head over his shoulder, “I’ve found him.”

“The hell Robin?” Jason asked, “shouldn’t you be in school?”

"It’s Saturday, and barely past 8:30.”

Jason rolled his eyes, “who else is with you?”

“Hood!” Twin voices echoed once they entered the clearing.

Nightwing and Red Robin stood next to each other, both covered in dirt and had an exhausted set to their shoulders. Jason barely had time to brace himself before Nightwing was slamming into him and hugging him. It was warm and it was nice, but he had just gotten out of an area with restricted movement and as a result, he struggled against the hold.

“Hood, you’re okay,” Nightwing cooed.

“Yeah,” Jason snapped, “I know, but let me breathe please.”

Nightwing dropped the hug and stepped back almost automatically. It was good to see his boundaries respected, not to mention he still had to get his legs free. Several minutes of awkward struggling and Red Robin helping to make the hole a little bit bigger, his legs were finally free. Now that he could feel the air and nothing of him was stuck in the ground, the pressure in his chest started to disappear.

“Shit, your hands!” Nighting cried after some time.

Jason blinked and looked down at his hands. Seeing them in the light for the first time made them look awful, most of the pain he had tuned out, but his fingers were completely shredded and his knuckles along with his palms were covered in deep purple bruising.

“I had to dig my way out,” Jason shrugged. Overall he was in better shape than the first time… this happened.

Robin’s face was screwed up in an odd way. Before Jason could tease him about being worried about him, Batman made his way into the clearing. Jason instinctively cowed himself. He didn’t need the lecture on being aware of his surroundings to keep things like this from happening. Batman immediately dropped he intimidating Dark Knight aura and crouched down.          

“Hood, are you okay?”

“Alive and not crazy,” Jason retorted.

Batman and Nightwing flinched, but Red Robin took that as permission to grab one of his hands to check it over. Robin still had an odd look on his face.

“We need to get these clean,” Red Robin mumbled, “and x-rays to see if you broke anything.”

Jason nodded lazily, he already knew that he wouldn’t win against the force of the Bats mother-henning.

“Did you get the guy that buried me?” Jason asked suddenly.

“No,” Batman replied.

Jason raised an eyebrow and Red Robin explained further, “we were trying to find you before the time-limit ran out.”

“How long did he say?”

“24 hours,” Red Robin replied.

“Yeah, no,” Jason snorted, “I’m lucky I made it, the six?”

Nightwing winced, “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Jason sighed, “it’s whoever decided it would be fun to bury me. Besides, now I can tell him personally how much I didn’t appreciate this.”

Batman pinched the bridge of his nose, “no killing.”

“I can use my words,” Jason snickered.

Nightwing gently cuffed him on the back of the head. Jason scowled at him without the heat, yeah, he was really glad he wasn’t buried anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought in the comments below! Constructive criticism is always appreciated when it's nicely put!


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